


I See Ghosts

by Kyoshu_Koi



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-War, Randomness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoshu_Koi/pseuds/Kyoshu_Koi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, that's one way to find out someone's godly parent.<br/>(One-Shot turned humor-based drabble series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I See Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post by af-art

The new kid was getting on his nerves.

First of all, he was just a ball of energy. Sure, Nico was used to hyperactivity – it was called AD _H_ D for a _reason_ – but this, this was going overboard. 

It was like someone had thrown together coffee, a Five-Hour Energy, and a liquefied Leo and tossed them into the twats to-go cup.

“Oh, what’s that?! A lava wa - Oh, oh! There’s grass on that ro – is that a real sword! Can I touch it! Why’s that girl’s skin green? Can I pull on that guy’s horns? Do you think Chiron will let me ride him?!”

At one point, Nico had seriously thought the kid was going to whirl around, point, and shout ‘squirrel!’ before dashing off into the sunset. 

Nico would’ve enjoyed that very, very much.

Instead, Percy just picked him up by the collar and held the boy away from his body while he thrashed his energy out.

Secondly, the kid was just flat out annoying. He kept asking about peoples’ powers, then went on the throw them in together with cliché similes that they totally hadn’t heard before (“It’s so cool! You’re like Aquaman! And he’s like… uh, Fireman!” “Real creative, niño, real creative.”).

So, when the kid turned to Nico, he was ready to punch his lights out. Or maybe summon a zombie and have it do that for him. The first would feel so much better, but the second would definitely leave lasting trauma.

The caffeine shot bounded over, having caught onto the black covered body amidst a sea of orange, and did a not so effortless hockey-stop in front of the son of Hades.

“What do yo -”

“I see dead people,” Nico deadpanned his interruption.

The kid just kind of looked at him, eyes staring but not seeing.

He opened his mouth, and Nico was ready for some kind of sarcastic, Persassy thing to spill out past his teeth like one of those weird rainbow drool things (Seriously, sometimes he just wished he could just jump back to his century, people weren’t as _weird_ ).

However, something aside from some sardonic snitch came out. “How often?” the kid asked.

Nico raised an eyebrow. Someone was actually interested? He shrugged off the surprise. “Every day,” he said, blowing an oily puff of black out of his eyes, “It’s so annoying.”

“Oh…,” the kid muttered, looking down. His sandal toed sneakers dug into the ground, simultaneously tracing circles and scooping up gravel in through the ratty hole. “Well, it is, I guess. I mean, I find it kind of fun.”

Nico’s brows furrowed together, “What?” he asked.

“I mean, I understand,” the kid continued, “I, uh, I see ghosts, too.”

Silence.

“…Oh…” Nico’s eyes rolled up into his head.

 .

.

.

“WILL! YOUR BOYFRIEND FAINTED!”

“…SORRY, NO _BOYFRIEND_ HERE: JUST A  _SIGNIFICANT ANNOYANCE_!”

 

 


	2. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kid was getting chased by the Minotaur when Percy found him. Oh, the irony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few week's earlier...

The kid was getting chased by the Minotaur when Percy found him.

Ironic, right? The actual sight took Percy back kind of far, his mind leaping back to when he was twelve and he’d first faced the bull-headed beast. Of course, he was yanked right back to reality when he realized the blue eyed brat was getting chased by a monster.

So, Percy had kicked into high gear, downing the ferocious beast for the third time in his life, only to ceremoniously get tackled by the child he’d just saved. He was taken aback, sure, but the boy was probably scared and tired and utterly grateful.

Percy smiled, peeling the kid off his leg like an unwanted Reese’s wrapper and bending down to greet him. “Hey,” he cooed, “You’re al -”

“That was so cool!” the boy yelled, stars dancing in his galactic eyes, “How’d you do that? Where’d the sword come from? The horns are left; do you get to keep them? Can I keep them?! Why’re your eyes so blue? Oh! Is that sword gold?!”

Percy blinked, totally confused at the sight before him.

The kid was bouncing on the balls of his feet and his hands were curled into tight, excited fists that were the size of Percy’s palm alone. His arms moved up and down along with him as he made like a bobble head and shook.

“Uh, I kind of took its head off,” Percy said, answering the first question. It confused the kid for a second, his big, curious eyes widened for the split second between Percy’s first answer and his second. “It came from my pen, I don’t want to keep the horns, so you can have them, my eyes are blue because the river over there’s blue, and no, the sword’s bronze.”

The kid’s eye’s went wild, sparkling like that cartoon shit Pollux watched.

“Oh. Oh, oh, oh! So how’d the sword come from the pen? Do I get to decorate the horns? Why do your eyes look like the river, then? And the sword looks gold, why’s it bronze? Also, what’s bronze?”

Percy held back a groan. Oh gods, it was like a Mini-Nico all over again. “How about this, kid,” Percy said, “I take you somewhere where you’ll get all your answers. You’ll find out about why the Minotaur -”

“The what?”

Percy frowned. “The bull. You’ll find out why it was chasing you and how I did all of this?”

"Will there be candy there?” the kid asked, “’Cause the ladies at the kid home thing said not to take candy from people I don’t know.” Percy just kind of looked at him. “So I can’t go if there’s candy,” the kid finished.

“There won’t be candy,” Percy said, “You’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Wait. Are you a stranger? The ladies also said not to walk off with strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Percy assured.

The boy crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot, sending Percy an incredulous look. Yup, definitely a Mini-Nico. “But how do I know you’re not a stranger?”

“I’m Percy Jackson,” he huffed, holding out his hand for the child to grab. “I’m not a stranger because now you know my name.”

“Oh. Okay,” the kid wiped a grimy hand off on his just as grimy shorts. When he pulled it away it was just as dirty before. He scowled at that and spat it his palms, rubbing them together then onto the grass in front of him.

Percy reluctantly took the boys hand. “So, what’s your name?”

“Rico,” he grinned, “Rico von Tod.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in Rico's name is German. Virtual cookies to anyone who figures out what all of it means.


	3. Ready or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico wasn't ready for a brother and Rico wasn't ready for, well, everything that was Camp Half-Blood.

It’d taken Nico some time to warm up to his new brother, a good two weeks, in fact. It was as if Nico didn’t like Rico – dear gods, Rico and Nico, how cliché could this get?! – he did. He really, really did. Nico was just used to being on his own.

He’d gone down to get his sister from the Underworld and had ended up bring Hazel back, it wasn’t the other way around.

Nico had found out about Hazel and he’d helped her out, rescued her even, if you looked at it like that.

But Rico had pranced into his life, a little ball of eagerness that had worrisome amounts of energy stored inside.

And Nico hadn’t really been ready for another sibling.

He got used to him, though; most of it was actually dealt with through Will’s gentle coaxing for Nico to actually interact with his new brother.

But now that all the hard work was done and over, the two children of death were pretty close.

Nico didn’t stop sitting at the Apollo table to go over and stay with his brother. Instead, Rico came to sit with them. “He needs social interaction,” Nico had protested.

Damien spat his drink all over Chiara when he heard that. She ended up punching him in return.

“Doctors orders,” Will had added.

That was the one that’d sealed the deal, and Rico was dragged over by an eager Kayla, who proceeded to coo and crone over him like a doting mother.

But while the relations sector of everything had gone smoothly – kind of – the more factual side of it all had proven to be a bit of a problem.

The original orientation film hadn’t done much to help Rico out; he was still confused as to everything that was going on. All he knew was that the camp had been protecting him for the past few weeks, and that some of the campers were special.

Rico didn’t really seem to understand much about the whole gods stuff no matter how hard everyone tried to explain it all. Some of the older, more patient campers were left helping him through it.

And even then it’d taken an entire day for him to get it.

 “So we’re all long lost cousins, but we’re not related?”

“…Yes.”

“Oh. Cool.”

A beat.

Two beats.

Then the cutest, most adorably heart wrenching thing to ever grace the camps presence happened.

Rico – who had told everyone of the ladies that looked after him and other children, who had explained a situation that screamed orphanage, who had talked about how all the other kids always looked so happy when those nice people came to pick them up – smiled and said:

“Wait, so Nico’s my brother? I have a brother? Oh my gosh, I have a brother! Are there any others? What about the rest of my family? Do I have any other siblings?”

Safe to say, he freaked out in the best way possible when he heard about Hazel.


	4. HandClap

You could kind of see the resemblance between the children of Hades, with the curly black hair and dark eyes and an underlying look that said they could put you ten feet under without batting an eye. But Rico hadn’t grown into that last part, not yet at least.

(Percy was secretly hoping it’d never happen, to be honest.)

However, when compared to Nico, who’d actually looked angelic and sweet before Bianca passed, Rico was practically demonic.

It was actually kind of creepy if you stared at him for a bit. He stood at a measly four foot five, but every inch of him was packed with a mad spark. His eyes gleamed with the fires of the prank lords and his lips continuously stretched into a wide, inhuman grin.

Paired with his childish features, Rico looked like something from the Conjuring. But that was when he was sitting still and staring at people, which only seemed to happen when he zoned out completely.

Lester said Rico looked more like Hades than Nico did, and that terrifying thought was what kept him at least five feet away at all times.

Conner whistled, watching as Rico passed by on his daily race to the Hephaestus cabin.  He’d quickly grown close with Harley, who was one of the only people at camp that was his age. "It's like Jason, Nico, and Leo had a kid together,” he muttered absentmindedly, “It’s terrifying.”

Miranda snorted in agreement. Next to her, Sherman shot Connor a look. The Hermes kid just raised his arms in defense. “Ain’t touching her, bro.” Miranda caught on and shot her boyfriend a look. Sherman huffed and muttered a sorry before draping a protect arm across her shoulders.

They started making goo-goo eyes, and Connor made a gagging motion before walking off.


	5. Flashlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was the biggest question around camp: where'd he come from

No one was surprised that Rico was a child of Hades. Okay, not really. They'd all kind of known, deep in that one part of their brain no teenager ever used, that he was special. But no one expected, well, that. The kid wasn’t more than ten and the Big Three’s pact was still valid. Just like Percy, just like Jason and Thalia, just like Nico and maybe even Hazel, he wasn't supposed to exist.

Safe to say, everyone just assumed he was just another one of Hades’ time travelers, stuck in the Lotus Hotel. Or maybe he’d been killed a while ago and Hades had taken pity on his children and decided to send them another sibling.

The demigod community had just grown used to it now, to be honest.

Hazel had died, _Leo_ had died, Nico was at least seventy years older than he looked, Paolo’d had his arm cut off and sewn back on at _least_ two times, and Lester was an astral being that governed a giant, fiery Ferrari and was at least five eons old - at least, he used to be.

Anyways, no one really batted an eye at that kind of stuff anymore. They’d had too much shit thrown at them – literally (let them never speak of Orlando again) – to even care anymore.

So it’d become the newest bet among the campers.

Rico’s origin’s, that is. The Hermes campers were hands in and Victor siblings weren’t too far behind.

Connor bet ten drachmas, a midnight swim in the lake after lights out, and twenty volunteer hours to any cabin for Rico having been brought back to life. 

Laurel put in eight drachmas, total control over the Nike cabin, and the claim that she was the better head counselor that Rico had been born before the twenties century. Holly gambled for Rico having been born in the current century for nine drachmas, total control over the Nike cabin, the ability to write whatever the winner wanted on her forehead, and the claim that she was the better head counselor.

Nyssa said they were all idiots. Most of the camp agreed.

After a full week on non-stop roundabout questions, Damien finally took pity on the word vomit that was constantly chucked Rico’s way and asked him if he knew the year.

Rico had blushed and hung his head. “No,” he’d murmured, “Some nuns found me and gave me to the ladies, they took care of me for a bit but I never really went outside the courtyard.”

Damien winced, got down on the kid’s level, and told him.

He went stark white and started bawling.


	6. Timeless (but not ignorant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His was either really, really old, or he was the living embodiment of Back to the Future. In which the plot to figure Rico out continues.

Every other day Harley had a new nickname for Rico. Most were a bit of a stretch, like Reeks, which had gotten shot down my Nico within seconds of leaving Harley's mouth. Ric, Ricky, Rivod - a mix of Rico's full name - were also some of the rejects.

Using his last name was taboo, too. Sherman had called him von Tod and the entire mess hall had gone dead silent. Rico had stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, then dropped the utensil like a game of hot potato. He closed his eyes for a bit, deep in thought, then opened them and said he'd just asked a nearby ghost to haunt Sherman.

No one knew if he was kidding or not, but Nico had a hoot like the proud brother he was.

"Hey, RT," Harley asked, the newest addition to the name bin rolling off his tongue much easier than some of the others.

It'd been a week since the Existential MeltdownTM had happened and Rico was doing better. He'd secluded himself for a while, but after a big batch of flowers from Miranda and some Steven Chez-It's, courtesy of Connor, he'd finally come out.

"How old are you?"

Rico glanced up from the flower crown he'd been weaving. He'd already made two from Miranda's big ass basket ("For Nico and Will. This one’s for you.") He contemplated answering for a second or two before giving in.

"I'm twelve."

Apparently he'd found a loophole in the question. Damn him and his special prying senses. Nico must’ve been wearing off on him more than people realized.

Harley rolled his eyes, "No, silly, how old are you?"

"Twelve." Harley just turned away and stared off into the distance with a pointed look. "What are you doing?" Rico asked.

"Ever heard of The Office?"

Rico scrunched up his nose, deep in thought as he seemingly racked his brain for anything similar to the amazing – and borderline godly – show. "No."

"Then it doesn't matter."


	7. A Reminder to Respect Your Elders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a nymph named Sassafras. Oh joy

“I don’t get what the big deal is, he’s just getting over glorified with all this shi –”

A pinecone thrown from one of the nearby nymphs boinked of his head and onto the ground, cutting off the last of his sentence. Rico had given one of them the fourth and final flower crown he’d made, and now they all practically worshipped him.

Sherman whipped around to face the green haired menace, but she just blew him a raspberry and faded back into her tree.

“I was just saying it doesn’t matter where he was from,” he muttered when she was gone, “Let a dude finish his sentence, will ya?”

A few leaves on the tree flicked down until a single row was standing up. Damien whistled. “I think she’s flipping you off, bro.”

Harley, who’d been sitting in the corner and recording it all on a beat up, hastily fixed Nikon, giggled to himself and scampered off to find Rico.

He was sitting in Zeus’ fist and chatting absentmindedly with a nymph. Harley skidded to a stop at the base of rocks and waved until Rico noticed him. He didn’t want to startle his company, after all.

Rico grinned and motioned for the girl to follow him and he stamped down the boulders and slid the last few feet to safe ground.

Most of the campers never really stopped by the ‘monument’ (“It’s a pile of shit, Harley, and you know that”) since they thought it was cursed. Rico never got the memo. Rico never really seemed to ever get the memo.

Harley had been a little hesitant to be around it at first, but after ten too many visits to the shaky pile of rocks, he’d grown to learn that they’d do nothing to him.

“Hey RT,” Harley said. The nickname had finally stuck, and Rico didn’t mind it. “I got this awesome video of Sherman.”

Rico grinned, “Nice. Oh, this is Sass.” He motioned towards the nymph.

“Hey-o,” she said with a wave. “I’m that Sassafras tree waaayyyyyyy over there.” She pointed in a random direction. “But you can call me Sass.”

She looked like she was twenty or something though Harley knew she had to be older. She also had a bit of a lisp and seemed to chop down on her words, almost as if she had a mouth full of gum.

Harley nodded, “Cool. So, the video?”

Rico was at his side in an instant, standing on his tip-toes to peer over his friend’s shoulder. Sass, who easily towered over the both of them, just stood behind their backs and watched with them.

She was the first to laugh, dropping to the ground with deafening howls and rolled around like she’d just watch a god fall on his nuts. “Ohmygods!” she gasped when she finally caught her breath, “Wait ‘till the naiads see this!”

She started off towards the lake, lifting her arm in a swoosh that could only be taken as a goodbye.

Harley blinked at the dust trail Sass left behind and Rico coughed as some of it made its way up his nose.

“Whew,” Harley whistled, “She’s got some speed on her.”

Rico rubbed at his nose and tongue in attempt to get some of Sass’ frantic running dust off. “Probably from all those gods chasing after her for a few hundred years.”

Harley blinked, “She’s that old?”

“Yeah,” Rico said absentminded, dropped to the ground. He started picking up a few of the longer strands of grass and began braiding them together.

He had a thing for weaving pieces of nature, it seemed to give him something to did. If Harley didn’t know Rico was a child of Hades he would’ve thought he had a new half-brother, with the way he fiddled with plants. It was almost like how he and his siblings tinkered with their machines.

“She was planted around the same time I was born.”

“And that was?”

“The eighteen fifties.”

Harley’s brain promptly combusted.


	8. Mr. Mustache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who said the Hermes kids were the only ones who could pull a prank?

Rico von Tod was an odd boy.

He was a son of death, yet he played with flowers and nature spirits. He was a bundle compact with so much energy it seemed like he’d burst with a single stretch of his childish grin, yet in the confines of the trees he was calm. 

His closest friends consisted of a ragtag group of nymphs, naiads, a few older campers whom he’d endeared, and Harley, the boy who’d grown to be a second brother to him. He could smile one second and glower the next and nothing would seem off about any of it.

And he has the oldest aura around him, signaling his age.

Rico von Tod was over a hundred and fifty years old … but he still liked to play pranks.

“Rico!” Austin snapped, chasing after the kid as he whipped around the cabins like a squirrel on a sugar high.

Rico just threw his head back and cackled, zooming towards the tree line. He blew past a nymph, who just clucked her tongue and stared after him wistfully, akin to a disproving mother. 

Austin continued to chase him, oversized, rainbow mustaches still glued to where his eyebrows were supposed to be. Smaller versions were tattooed all over his face, and a giant Walmart bag was somehow stuck to his back, flowing behind him like a majestic cape.

Will took one look at his half-brother and dissolved into a fit of hysterics.

Nico’s lips twitched up in a disapproving smile, though that faded when he noticed the gold acrylic nails on Austin’s fingers.

Then he just fell to the ground, rolling in his own laughter next to his boyfriend.

Austin ran after Rico for a full half-hour until the both of them were completely drained and Connor had gotten a sufficient amount of blackmail worthy pictures.

The son of Apollo wheezed out a dull ‘fuck you’ and collapsed on the ground, chest heaving. Kayla simply sat in the corner and ate an orange, though she choked on some slices as the laughs came back for a bit.

Rico sucked in a breath and waved like the lil SHIT he was, before walking off to find Harley, who’d somehow slept through the whole ordeal.


	9. Let it Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn it Rico!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a thousand notes! Thanks so much guys! Sorry it's been a while, I'll try to get into a schedule again, I promise!

Hazel found Rico endearing; Frank hated him.

First of all, he was _literally_ older than sliced bread –by a good fifty years, too. And he liked to take advantage of it. “Respect your elders,” Rico says oh-so-often, his shit-eating grin more apparent than most of his face. 

(He was like a mini version of Leo – that was probably also a factor as to why Frank hated Rico so much, now that e thought about it.)

Second of all, he would never let the fact that people had powers go to waste.

You can control precious metals? Let’s shadow you for a day and try and figure out how? You can spontaneously combust? How about we see what your limits are!

You can turn into random animals? Turn into as many as you can so I can document it! Then trying turning into an animal you’ve only heard of but never seen! Oh, then how about –

How about he shut up for once in his centurial life?

But did Rico ever shut up? No. Not unless he was staring off into a distance. Which was basically always.

Percy said it just kind of happened.

Rico’d be in the middle of a conversation then … then … oh, we were talking? Sorry.

But did you see that squirrel?

(If Leo was the Hyperactive in ADHD, then Rico was the Attention Deficit.)

At first people just thought Rico had tons and tons of energy.

Frank had, too.

But when Hazel practically tore across the country to see her very, _very_ _long_ lost, half-brother, Rico hadn’t really noticed her until Frank stepped up and waved a hand in front of his face.

He been staring at flowers.

Oops?

It’d become apparent very, _very_ quickly that Rico was not, in fact, the Energizer-Bunny, but an old soul pining for knowledge … and some good laughs along the way.

Prank this, learn that: Rico had two versions, and they were definitely not interchangeable.

He was a social creature who hated mornings and mid-day (“The sun is too high, Hazel, I should not be walking around while it’s perpendicular with my head.”) and loved fraternizing with half the cabins like it was no tomorrow.

Rico was the best ‘fuck you’ Camp Half-Blood’s few rules had ever seen.

He was also the biggest ‘fuck you’ Frank had ever seen.

Because, damnit kid, _stop pulling out my feathers!!_


End file.
